Waking Nightmare
by All-things
Summary: "Behind them, he could hear the thump, thump, thump of something chasing them, the blood curdling screeches and the too heavy to be human breathing only mere feet away." ::Rated M for violence and gore::
1. Chapter 1

Waking Nightmare

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Chapter One

"Remind me why I'm here, exactly?"

"Standard procedure, Bones, always have a medical personal planet-side."

Dr. McCoy grunted breathlessly. "That doesn't mean you have to have the _Chief Medical_ _Officer_ with you on a routine checkup, _Captain_."

Kirk couldn't quiet hide his grin as he climbed up on one of the many large rocks in their vicinity.

"You could have picked someone young and spry for this mission," McCoy continued, his labored breathing causing him to pause every few seconds, "I'm a doctor, not a mountain climber."

Kirk turned to offer his friend a hand, but saw that Mr. Chekov had beaten him to it.

"Maybe the Keptain just vanted the best?" the Russian ensign offered as he helped the doctor climb up the rock Kirk was standing on.

Again, McCoy grunted. "Nurse Chapel is the best nurse in the galaxy, not to mention she actually enjoys the great outdoors. She's more than capable to treat broken bones and sprained ankles."

"Yes," Kirk began, quickly grabbing McCoy by the arm to steady the doctor when he slipped on a loose rock, "but what if someone at the colony is sick? I need you to make sure all of the colonists are healthy."

"Well, then why did Scotty beam us down on the other side of the mountain?" McCoy asked.

"The soil that the colonists use to grow their crops is interfering vith the transporter beam," Chekov replied as his also climbed the rock almost effortlessly.

"Then way not use the shuttles?" McCoy persisted as they continued their trek upwards.

"Come on, Bones. Where's you sense of adventure?" Kirk asked.

"About ten feet after we started climbing," came the gruff reply.

Kirk's grin grew wider. He was actually enjoying this. He had always loved the mountains. When he was a kid, their Kirk family reunions would always be at Grandpa and Grandma Kirk's house, which was situated in the Rocky Mountains. He and his brother went rock climbing every morning with their cousins. There was something about the majestic stone peaks that made him feel alive.

He was startled from his thoughts when he heard someone shout, "There they are!"

Kirk looked up to see Ensign Wilson waving at them from the top of the mountain. Kirk hadn't realized how far behind they had lagged. When they reached the top, they found Mr. Spock, Wilson, and Lieutenant Samson patiently waiting for them.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Kirk said causally.

"There is no reason for you to apologize, Captain, as I am sure that it is Dr. McCoy's doing," Spock relied coolly. They both looked over to the topic of their conversation to see the doctor sitting on a rock panting heavily. "It would appear that, although McCoy is an exemplarily doctor, mountain climbing is not one of his strong points."

"It appears not," Kirk said in amusement. He turned to his second in command, "How long have you been waiting for us?"

"Ten point three minutes," Spock replied with precision.

Kirk nodded. "We'll take a ten minute break then continue down to the valley." It wasn't so much him, or even Chekov for that matter, but for McCoy. Although it had been amusing, Kirk had seen right through the complaining and could tell that the doctor really was having a hard time making it up the mountain. One again, Kirk was reminded that McCoy wasn't as young and active as him.

After ten minutes went by, the landing party began to descend down toward the valley. Two hours later they had made it halfway down the mountain and Kirk called a halt.

"We'll take a twenty minute break," he announced.

McCoy immediately sat down on the nearest rock to him.

"Hey, doc, you thirsty?" Lt. Samson asked. At McCoy's nod, the security officer handed him one of the canteens from his pack. Since they had to hike across a mountain, Kirk had insisted that they bring three packs full of water, food, medicine, and a tent, just in case. Experience had taught him that you should be prepared for anything. They had been taking turns carrying the packs all day; even McCoy had carried the lightest one for at least two hours total, and right now, Samson, Spock, and Chekov where the ones shouldering the packs.

Kirk looked out at the view of the valley their current position provided them. He could see the farms that made up the wealth of the colony. It was a beautiful sight. The dark red patches of the kizi'sa crop in full bloom complemented the green of the forest that almost surrounded it, added with the purplish-blue mountains in the background and the white clouds that cut off the tops, in was breathtaking.

_This is the perfect place for our last mission,_ Kirk thought. This was the last mission in their five year adventure. After they had checked up on the colony, they would be heading home, to Earth. That was why Kirk had brought McCoy. This would be the last time he, Spock, and McCoy would beam down into the unknown together, even though they hadn't technically beamed into the unknown. Kirk turned to watch his friends and crew. Spock was observing the others with that mild curiosity that he would usually show during one of his many experiments. McCoy was still sitting on the rock he had claimed at the beginning of the break, but was now leaning against the stone wall behind him with his eyes closed and arms crossed looking very much like he was asleep. Lt. Samson was looking out at the scenery with an alert expression on his face but Kirk noticed that his body was relaxed. Ensigns Wilson and Chekov were carrying on a quiet conversation while checking their packs. There was a deep calm in the atmosphere around them, and why not? Everything was fine. Kirk hoped that it stayed that way.

Twenty minutes passed and they started out again. It didn't take long for McCoy to start up complaining again.

"Why not just beam us to the top or where we were just resting back there? Why did it have to be on the other side of the mountain? It would have saved us a lot of trouble if we were just beamed here instead of over there."

"Doctor, technically, this does not have the height qualifications for an Earth mountain. I believe the correct term would be 'hill'," Spock commented.

"Pocky-cock," McCoy huffed, "Not calling this a mountain is like not calling Pluto a planet."

"Pluto is not a planet," Spock stated.

"Officially, yes, but in the hearts and minds of Earths people, Pluto will always be the ninth planet of our solar system," McCoy said dramatically, with his hand over his heart.

"It is illogical to deny the facts," Spock pointed out.

"That's what people were thinking two hundred years ago when those pickle-headed scientist declared that Pluto was too small to be a planet. The idea never stuck. You can chalk one up for human stubbornness."

Kirk chuckled softly at the banter going on behind him. He would miss that. With him becoming an Admiral and Spock going back to Vulcan, he doubted that he would ever hear it again once they were back on Earth, so he was savoring this moment of what had become his normality.

Suddenly there was a low rumble under their feet causing everyone to stop. It went on for a couple seconds before growing louder and then fading away.

"What was that? An earthquake?" McCoy asked.

"Fascinating," Spock said then he turned to Kirk, "Earthquakes are not uncommon in this area."

Kirk nodded, his Chief Science Officer's dismissal as all the assurance he needed. "Let's keep going than, shall we?"

They were just about to start moving again when out of nowhere the ground split open right underneath them. Chekov never had a chance as the crack started right under him causing him to fall straight through it with a startled cry. The crack grew wider and the ground shook violently making McCoy lose his footing and he began to fall backward into the ever widening gap.

"Bones!" Kirk yelled in horror as he saw his friend fall.

Samson reach out and grabbed the doctor's arm in an attempt to save him, but it only served to pull the lieutenant off balance; sending them both plunging into the black mouth.

"NO!" Kirk exclaimed as he watched the two men disappear over the edge. The ground then lurched from underneath him causing him to fall painfully on his back. He tried to regain his footing as the earth convulsed around him. He looked around, desperate to find the others. He saw Spock on the ground two feet to his left and Wilson hanging onto a rock on the other side of the crevice. Then, just as suddenly as it had started…it stopped.

Kirk wasted no time in getting to the edge of the gap. Once there, he collapsed on his hands and knees and cried, "Bones!" He barely noticed Spock's presence materialize beside him. "Bones!" he yelled again, then, "Samson! Chekov!"

A sudden motion from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked to see Spock taking off his pack and efficiently searching it. It didn't take long for the Vulcan to produce a light which he handed over to Kirk before returning to his pack to find another one.

Kirk shined the light into the blackness of the recently made trench. "Bones!" he tried again, "Chekov! Samson!"

But there was nothing, just darkness. With a growing sense of grief, Kirk began to realize that he wasn't going to get an answer.

To Be Continued...

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A/N: What do you think? Is it something you want to see more of? Or should it end there?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Because some people showed interest in this story, I decided to continue it. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to give feedback. Thanks to my beta reader Challegnerspet.

I don't own Star Trek.

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Chapter Two

McCoy woke up coughing. Tears streamed from his eyes and his lungs burned as they worked to get all the water out of them. _Wait…water? Why in the blazes am I coughing up water?_ McCoy wondered. When his coughing settled down, he noticed that someone was holding him on his side as while as the fact that he was cold and wet. Trying to figure out what happened he looked around to see where he was, but he soon found out that it was too dark.

"Hey, doc, you okay?" Samson's voice asked from behind him. The man sounded worried.

McCoy nodded. "Yeah," his voice was rough from the coughing fit.

The security guard sighed in relief. "You had me scared there, doc. You weren't breathing when I woke up, so I had to do CPR."

"I wasn't breathing?" McCoy asked in shock. The water. He had woken up wet and coughing up water. _I must have drowned._ "Are you okay?" he asked the young man.

"Yeah, just wet and cold."

"Where are we?"

"I donno. As far I can tell, we're underground somewhere."

When McCoy sat up, he realized that the floor was rock. It must be a cavern of some kind and with the water; he assumed that they must have fallen through the earth and into an underground lake. How they ended up on the shore was a mystery to him. A sudden thought hit McCoy.

"Wait, where's Chekov?" He instinctively looked around before he remembered that he couldn't see.

"I don't know. Last I saw him was when the ground opened up and swallowed us. Do think he's alright?"

"Well, we are. I don't see why he shouldn't. But we need to find him," McCoy said as he stood up with a little help from Samson. "Chekov!" he called, his voice bounced off the walls in a scattered chaos that made it seem like there were a hundred McCoy's calling the young Russian's name.

There was no answer.

McCoy turned to where he knew Samson was standing and asked, "Do we have a light of some kind?"

He heard the security guard curse himself and then there was a rustling sound of someone searching through a pack. "I forgot I had it," Samson murmured. A few seconds later a small light was turned on and handed to McCoy. He took it and began to flash it around their immediate surroundings.

As he had predicted, not three feet to their right, lay a lake. Its clear water reflecting the jagged rock walls that surrounded them. The stone itself was a blue so dark it almost looked black.

Sweeping his torch around in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse of a yellow Starfleet issued uniform; McCoy began to call for the ensign again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Samson had found another flashlight and was searching the lake for any sign of Chekov.

"Didn't Chekov have one of the packs too?" McCoy asked as he carefully made his way further from the lake.

"Yup, which means that the others only have one Mr. Spock was carrying. I think that was the one with the tent, but I'm not sure. Not that we'll need a tent in this forsaken underground cave."

Then a thought struck McCoy. He looked down to his waist and saw that it was bare; no phaser, no communicator, and no medical pack. "Do you have your communicator or phaser?" he asked the man behind him.

Samson also looked down to his waist. "Aw, crap," he muttered.

With a sinking feeling, McCoy went back to where they had woken up and searched the area. One of the many things McCoy had learned while stationed on the _Enterprise_ was that you never go anywhere without your communicator and _especially _your phaser, even more so when you're on an uncharted planet or you're lost. Well, they were lost now, and they had no means to contacted Jim or protected themselves.

_This is not good,_ McCoy thought when their search turned up nothing.

"Maybe Chekov still has his," Samson said, hope filling his voice.

"Well, whether or not he does, we still need to find him." McCoy swept his flashlight along the lake shore. The light danced across the smooth stone floor and rugged walls to catch a sight of an unmistakable yellow shirt. "Look," McCoy said pointing in the direction his light shone.

They both ran over to limp body of their friend. For one painful moment, McCoy thought the young Russian was dead, but when he check for a pulse he found one; life's tiny Morse code. Chekov was alive but unconscious. Immediately McCoy began looking for any sign of injury; finally letting out a sigh of relief when he found none. With that assurance, he set to the task of reviving the ensign. Chekov's eyelids fluttered, giving McCoy a glimpse of his deep brown irises in the torch light. After a few more seconds, the young man's eyes opened again and this time stayed open.

"Doctor?" came the thick accented voice.

"Hey, how do you feel?" McCoy asked as he helped Chekov into a sitting position.

"Uh, okay-I think." He looked down at himself and asked, "Vhy am I vet?"

"Because you fell through the earth and into an underground lake," McCoy answered. At the slight expression of horror that formed onto the Russian's face, he quickly added, "But you're fine, as far as I can tell."

"You gave us quiet I scare there, kid," Samson said from the other side of Chekov, "Next time, tell us when you're going to wander off like that."

Chekov gave him a confused look, "I didn't vander off."

The security guard looked mildly surprised at the reply. "Geez, Sulu was right. You really _do_ have no sense of humor."

McCoy chuckled at that, while Chekov looked fairly annoyed. Mumbling something in Russian, Chekov stood up; McCoy and Samson followed suit.

"Vhere are ve?"

"Who knows?" Samson shrugged, "But we should probably start looking for a way out. Oh, hey, Chekov, do you have your phaser?" Samson asked while directing his flashlight towards the ensign's waist.

A quick search on Chekov's part revealed no phaser, but lucky didn't seem to have completely abandoned them as he still had his communicator. Chekov opened it and found that it still worked.

"Thank Starfleet for waterproofing!" Samson exclaimed.

"Yeah," McCoy, ever the pessimist, said, "But what good is going to do us if we can't get ahold of anybody?"

"The Keptain vill no doubt be looking for us," Chekov pointed out, "If ve can get to the surface then ve can contact the _Enterprise_. Ve should take stock of vhat ve have." The ensign knelt on the rocky ground, took off his pack and began to look through it.

"Good idea," Samson agreed as he mimicked the Russian's actions, getting down on his knees and shifted through his pack.

"What if Jim thinks we're dead?" McCoy murmured.

He saw the other two go still and look at him. _Blast, sometimes I hate being a pessimist,_ he thought.

Then Chekov spoke, "If the Keptain believes that ve are died, then he vill most likely take the _Enterprise _home. But that doesn't matter, because even if the _Enterprise _isn't out there, the colony is."

"That's right," Samson chirped, "If all else fails, we can go to the colony for help."

Thank God for Chekov to give hope to the hopeless.

McCoy then began to explore their surroundings more closely as the others went back to sorting their backpacks.

There wasn't much else worth noting that hadn't already been noted before. The rocks were blue, the water clear, and all round the cave was dark. McCoy briefly wondered how long their lights would last. He hoped it would be long enough.

After about ten minutes, McCoy found a tunnel. It led straight ahead with an upwards tilt and was made of the same dark blue rock as the cavern. He walked down it a little ways, before turning around and making his way back to the others to report what he discovered. They were putting everything back in the packs when he reached them.

"I found a way out," he told them.

"Good," Samson said, obviously taking charge, which was fine with McCoy. He and Chekov stood, slinging their packs onto their shoulders. "Let do this."

Just as McCoy started the lead them to where he had found the tunnel, Chekov stopped.

"What's wrong?" McCoy asked.

"Listen," Chekov hushed.

They did. There was nothing.

"I don't hear anything," Samson commented.

"I heard something," the Russian said, "It sounded like it was coming from the lake." He swept the light he had taken out from his pack over the surface of the lake which lay only a few feet way.

"What? Are you trying to scare us?" Samson asked lightly, though McCoy could tell that the man was tense.

McCoy began to feel uneasy as he watched the light dance across the surface of the water. Chekov was young and could cause a great deal of trouble with his mischievousness, especially when he and Sulu were together, but this is not something the Russian would joke about. He always took his work seriously, particularly when there was the tiniest molecule of danger.

"No, sir," Chekov replied in a chipped tone, but he continued to search the depth of the lake with his flashlight.

They stood in silence for a few moments. That was when McCoy saw it. As the light beam passed over the water, McCoy caught a brief glimpse of pale skin. Chekov had apparently seen it too, as he immediately brought the light back. McCoy's heart froze. There it was, just inches beneath the surface. Its roundish head and enormous mouth full of razor sharp teeth was facing in their direction. It didn't have any eyes, but there were two slits where McCoy imagined its nose might be. This was why you should always have your phaser.

For what seemed like forever, they just stood there, all of them too scared to move. But, it also stayed where it was. _No eyes_, McCoy thought, _it can't see us._

Noiselessly, he leaned over Chekov's shoulder and whispered very quietly in his ear, "It can't see us. We should get out of here."

Chekov nodded mutely and passed on the information to Samson. Without another word the trio backed away from the edge of the lake.

Because he was watching the creature, McCoy wasn't paying much attention to where he was going. He tripped on a rock and in the few seconds of his free fall he thought, _we're dead!_ He landed on the floor with a painfully loud _oomf!_ Before he could comprehend what was happening, he heard a loud splash and something roar. Desperate hands grabbed him, hoisted him to his feet, and push/pulled him away from the lake.

"Where's the tunnel?" he heard Samson yell in his ear.

"That way," McCoy responded, pointing where he remembered finding the passageway. Without farther ado, he was rushed in the direction he had just pointed to.

Behind them, he could hear the _thump, thump, thump_ of something chasing them; the blood curdling screeches and the too heavy to be human breathing only mere feet away.

_We're going to die!_

~I~

They arrived at the colony only an hour after the earthquake. Kirk ordered Ensign Wilson to beam back up to the ship, since there was no way for him to cross the crevice, inform Scotty of the situation and to organize a search party. While him and Spock continued downwards to get help from the colonist. Spock has tried to convince Kirk that it was unlikely that any of them could have survived the fall, but Kirk wasn't going to give up.

As they entered the colony, they headed for the nearest building. When they reached the front door of a log cabin, Kirk knocked and waited…and waited.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Kirk yelled at the closed door. When no one answered, he turned to look at his First Officer.

Spock was already one step ahead of him. He had taken out his tricorder and was scanning the area.

"Well?" Kirk asked impatiently.

"Captain, I am reading no life forms in this vicinity."

"What? They knew we were coming. Where could they have gone?"

"Unknown."

"Come on, let's have a look around."

They entered the cabin and were abruptly assaulted with a scene of chaos. Chairs and tables were overturned. Various objects were scattered all over the floor. But what caught Kirk's direct attention were the stains of red that smeared and spattered the room.

Blood was everywhere.

They began an immediate search. But all it did was revealed more trashed and blood soaked homes.

The colonists were gone.

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry about the _long_ delay. I just wanted you all to know that I haven't forgotten this story and I do plan on finishing it. Life just got crazy. But, I'm back. I hope you like this chapter. Also, forgive any mistakes. I'm not sure what happened to my beta. I emailed her, but she didn't respond.

Please note that this chapter might disturb some people so viewer discretion is advised. This is the reason I rated this story M for gore.

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Chapter Three

Samson pressed himself as close against the rocky wall as he possibly could. The light of his torch lit up the dark room even though it was pointed towards the ground.

He didn't know how long they had been running, but it seemed like forever. Somewhere along the way, he had noticed that they lost Dr. McCoy. Probably took a wrong turn. But he didn't really have the time to think about that right now.

Right now, he was trying hard not to breathe as the creature prowled the tiny room they found themselves trapped in. Well, it wasn't really a room but more like the end of the tunnel they had been running down.

Chekov was next to him, also making an effort to been as noiseless as possible while forcing himself into as small of a target as he could manage. Samson never thought he would envy someone for their smaller build. He had always been big for his age. When he was a boy, he had used his size to bully the kids at school. Not something he was proud of. But that was the past and here in the now, he was trying to not be eaten by a blind cave-monster.

His heart pounded in his chest and sweat trailed down his face and back, soaking his red security shirt. His eyes never left the thing, as it roamed the space in search of them.

It was strange to think this, but Samson thought it looked kind of like the Rancor beast in one of those old Earth movies called _Star Wars_. It had sickly pale skin, with a round head. Its' body was hunched and it walked like a chimpanzee does, with its' long arms and short legs. Its' arms looked strong enough to squeeze a human to death and its' webbed feet was designed to propel it swiftly though the water. All in all, it looked like something from a horror hologram.

It banged the walls with its' clawed hand in an obvious attempt to find them. As it came nearer and nearer, Samson started to panic. He needed to get them out of there. Samson could feel the ensign start to tremble next to him as it came closer. He had to think of something. He needed to start doing his job and protect the people with him, and right now, that meant the scared Russian by his side.

It came closer.

He looked around, looked for anything that would help them escape.

_Thump. Bang. Thud._ It pounded the walls.

He thought desperately, hoping for the answer.

It screeched in anger. It was now no more than ten feet from them.

The answer, he had to think of the answer. He had to do his job.

Closer. Nearer. Louder. It reached out; its' long claws only inches from Chekov's face. The ensign froze in terror.

Then, the answer came.

Without thinking twice, Samson lunged at the beast. Its' cold, clammy body met his warm face and arms as he tackled it to the ground.

"Run!" he shouted at the stunned navigator, "Find the doc and get out of here!"

A loud, ear-splitting shriek sounded from underneath him. Clawed hands stuck out and met their mark.

Pain flooded his from gut. A cry of agony erupted from his throat. He could feel his own blood spilling out onto the stone floor. Its' claws came down again. Its' teeth sunk into his flesh.

"GO!" he screamed, hoping, beyond all hope, that Chekov was already gone. He hated the idea of his death being in vain.

~I~

Pavel Andreievich Chekov was not a coward, by any means. If the situation required it, he would stand his ground and when you made him mad he would make sure you knew that size didn't matter. Growing up with no mother and an abusive father would do that to you. But as he watched that clawed hand reach for him, he froze. At that moment he knew he was going to die.

But sometimes there's a difference between knowing and happening.

From Chekov's left, Lt. Samson charged the beast and tackled it to the ground. The tall security guard was shouting, but Chekov was too stunned hear what he was saying. Samson screamed in agony as the creature literally began ripping him apart. Warm blood spattered everywhere, on the stone walls, the floor and ceiling. Chekov blinked and flinched as it spurted all over his clothes and face. In the flashlight lit cavern, he could see in every detail the death of Lt. Joe Samson.

Then, just like being broken out of a spell, Samson screamed the word "GO!" and Chekov ran.

Holding his torch tightly in his hand, Chekov sprinted down the rocky corridor back towards the lake. He could still hear the pain filled shrieks from Samson and the inhuman screeches from It.

Adrenaline and fear worked together to propel him forward, away from the horror behind him. His lunges burned with the effort to suck in air and his legs felt like rubber. Rocks jutted out from the walls and floor, causing him to trip and bruise his knees. His hands had scrapes and cuts on them from repeatedly picking himself up off the ground. He only stopped running when he slipped and fell, smashing his light on the rocks and throwing him into darkness.

He lay there on the cold stone too exhausted to go on. He could hear nothing beside his own strangled gasps. The adrenaline drained from his body and shock took over making him feel too weak to get up. He lay there for what seemed like hours reliving the horror he'd just witnessed. The blackness around him did nothing to dampen the vivid images of Lt. Samson being ripped to shreds.

After a while, he must've fall asleep because the next thing he knew there were hands on him, lifting him, and turning him over. Panic arose in him and he lashed out at mysterious creature that was no doubt going to eat him.

"Whoa, whoa, Chekov, it's me, McCoy," a gruff yet soothing voice shot through his panicked state.

"D-d-dr. M-mcCoy?" stammered Chekov, blinking at the sudden light.

"Yeah, it's me, son. Don't worry, I got you. Chekov, tell me where you're hurt," the doctor gently asked.

Chekov didn't comprehend what the Georgian was asking, "Hurt?"

In the light of McCoy's torch, Chekov saw the older man frown. "Ensign, you're covered in blood. That blood's gotta come from somewhere," he pointed out, nodding his head at the spatter streaked across Chekov's uniform.

Chekov looked down at himself. "Oh," he said softly. The memory of blood and gore flashed before his eyes. "It is not mine," he whispered.

McCoy regarded him with sad, understanding eyes. He let out a muttered curse then sighed, "He was a good man."

Silence stretched between them before a sudden far off shriek that broke it. It was faint but still loud enough to strike their hearts with cold dread.

"We need to get out of here," McCoy stated.

Chekov nodded then, with great effort, pulled himself together. "The path I came from is a dead end. Vhat about you? Did you find any other vay out?"

The doctor nodded, "There's a fork in the tunnel little ways back. I accidently ran the opposite way that you guys did. I didn't go very far, but it went upwards."

"Okay, ve'll try that vay."

Chekov shouldered his pack off and searched for the extra flashlight as while as something to whip his face with. When he was ready, they set off down the cave tunnel to the fork McCoy mentioned.

They walked in silence, mutually afraid that any noise would bring the creature upon them. They reached the place where the paths split and started up the one McCoy had stumbled onto.

The cave was dark and musty. Shadows danced around them as their lights played hide and seek with the dark. Stalagmites and stalactites jutted out from the stone while rocks and boulders nestled in their path in a collective effort to stop their trek to the surface. But they persisted, not letting anything halt their progress.

It had been about three hours when they reached a large room. Its ceiling rose tall above them and the floor was littered with large sarsens of all shapes. It almost looked as if at one time there had been a cave in, but the fact that the cavern was still there belied that theory. As they walked farther into the room both of the Starfleet men noticed a foul stench. After a few minutes of walking, it became strong enough to make their stomachs turn. Still trying to remain silent, they used their hands to briefly consult on a direction. Farther in the room, there was a pile of rocks that where pushed up against the left hand wall. Chekov had noticed that at the top of the pile was what looked to be a tunnel.

While trying to find a way up the rocks and to the passageway, McCoy had wandered too close to a hole in the ground. Before Chekov could even reacted, the doctor slipped and fell letting out a startled yelp.

"Doctor!" Chekov cried out in fear. His gut made a sickening lurch as he scrambled to the gaps edge and peered in.

What met his eyes caused him to freeze in utter shock. Dr. McCoy had landed in a pit about six feet deep and ten or so feet wide, but what the older man had landed _in_ made what Chekov had seen earlier seem like a child's hologram. In the pit, were bodies…well, more like body _parts._ Dislocated arms and legs were strewn all over the bottom to the hole. Decapitated heads bobbed in the twelve inch pond of blood. The flesh was grey with death and decay. Never, _never,_ in Chekov's life has he seen anything this horrific and by the look of pure terror in McCoy's face, it was probably the same for him too. They froze like that for a few moments. Then like a spell being broken, McCoy was on his feet desperately wadding through the gore to the wall.

"Chekov! _Get me out of here!_" Panic and dismay weaved thickly through his voice.

Chekov didn't give it a second thought as he took the surgeon's out stretched hands. With all his might, he heaved the doctor out of the pit and over the side. Immediately, McCoy began to rip off his shirt in an attempt to get rid of the blood. Chekov lowered his pack and pulled out an extra pair of clothing, Samson had had the pack with the food in it.

"Get it off me! Get it off me!" McCoy screamed trying to wipe the blood off.

"Doctor, please, calm down," Chekov tried to sooth but, of course, it didn't work. For fear that McCoy would harm himself, Chekov grabbed the man by the arms to restrain him. "Doctor! Calm down!"

Just then, something grabbed Chekov from behind and lifted him off the ground. Sheering pain exploded from his sides and right shoulder making him scream in agony. Vaguely, he thought he heard McCoy yell his name but he was too wrapped up in his own anguish that he didn't pay much attention. The sound of an animal howling in pain pierced his eardrums. He felt a sudden falling sensation before hitting the rocky ground with a heavy thud. Without having a chance to catch his breath, Chekov was hauled up to his feet and pulled towards...somewhere. The light from a torch bounced and bobbed across their path, but all he was really aware of was that McCoy was leading him forward. It was all he could do just to stay upright. The pain coursed through his body, spiking with every step. Chekov could fell his strength waning fast.

~I~

All previous memory of disembodied parts and blood were gone as McCoy ran desperately away from the creature following them. Chekov, by some miracle, was still on his own two feet which saved McCoy having to carry him. But right now, he needed to get them away from it. He felt a sense of déjà vu as he sprinted across the cavern lugging Chekov with him. Wasn't just hours ago that he was doing this very same thing in the lake room? An idea struck him then. He looked for a rock or something to hide behind with his flashlight. When he spotted a large rock, he ran for it. Gripping the ensign tighter, he pivoted them around the bolder shoving Chekov not to gently to the ground electing a cry of pain from the younger man. Without wasting a moment, McCoy whirled around and chucked the flashlight as far as he could. It landed on the ground with a clatter and the monster galloped towards it. He held his breath and waited.

The light was still being emitted from the torch which allowed a glimpse of pale flesh very so often as the beast tried to find them. When it looked far enough away, McCoy leaned where he_ thought_ the Russian's ear might be and he whispered to keep quiet and not to move. He felt a weak squeeze on his right knee as Chekov's acknowledgment. They sat there, against the rock, and waited for the creature to leave.

~I~

"Spock, why didn't the sensors pick up the fact that there was no one on the planet suffice?" Kirk asked testily. After their investigation, they had contacted the _Enterprise_ and ordered a search party. So far, they were no closer to an answer then they were hours ago. Spock had returned to the ship to run some scans and was now talking to Kirk over the communicator.

"_Unknown, Captain. I am attempting to determine that at this moment. According to the sensors, the planet was populated by thirty-two human life forms when we established orbit."_

Kirk sighed in frustration while rubbing his brow with his thumb. "That doesn't make any sense. Our tricorders said that the blood we found was at least two months old. The colony wasn't here when we came," he said gloomily. Thirty-two people, dead, and three of his crew missing. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't worried for McCoy, Chekov, and Samson. If they met whatever it was that had done this to the colony…

"_Indeed. I am checking the computers for malfunctions. That seems the only logical reason for such an oversight."_

"What about the soil? Could it be that it interfered with our sensors as well as the transporter?"

"_Unlikely, Captain. The sensors are working in the correct order at this present time. If the soil used for the kizi'sa crop was the problem then the sensors would still be affected."_

Kirk sighed again, this time more heavily. "Keep working on it, Spock, and let me now if you find something. Kirk out."

Snapping the communicator shut, he looked at his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of their camp. Security were scattered here and there, preparing for night. It was getting too dark to continue their investigation. The medical team checked their equipment and a few crewmen from other departments softy discussed different things.

Kirk thought about his missing men and wondered if they were alright. His mind replayed the thing that started this all. He saw the look of surprise on Chekov's face as he disappeared, the feeling of horror as McCoy fell along with Samson. He could hear the deep rumble of the ground shaking as he tried to save them, to get to them. Spock had told him it was unlikely that they had survived and Kirk was beginning to realize the false hope he was feeding himself. Tomorrow, they were going to try and climb down in gap the earthquake had created to see if they could find his men. He couldn't give up on them. Not until he _knew_ for sure that they were dead. He may be feeding himself false hope, but it was hope all the same.

To Be Continued...


End file.
